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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27164818">Alone Amongst These Empty Halls</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedCrimez89/pseuds/RedCrimez89'>RedCrimez89</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, DCU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous/Open Ending, Creepy, Damian Wayne Feels, Fear, Gen, I promise, Jason Todd comes to the rescue, Locked In, Near Death Experiences, Not edited we die like robins, Random Encounters, Randomness, Trapped, Winchester Mystery House, as always ofc, but he won’t acknowledge it smh, haha - Freeform, hahahah, kind of, no one dies, so pls don’t judge too hard, this was for practice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:35:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,060</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27164818</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedCrimez89/pseuds/RedCrimez89</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There are too many doors, too many ways to go. It makes him anxious, having to choose which way will be the right way. Because Damian isn’t used to having to get himself out of these types of situations. There’s always someone there to reassure him, to pat him on the back and follow. But now he’s alone, trapped in a maze of walls and doors and glass pane with no idea which direction will lead him to freedom.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jason Todd &amp; Damian Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Alone Amongst These Empty Halls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So originally, this title was going to belong to another work I’ve been slowly finishing with Tim. But I decided this would fit much better with this story so here we are!</p><p>I recently found out about the Winchester House (more information about that <a href="https://winchestermysteryhouse.com/sarahs-story/">here</a>) and I decided to use that as inspiration for a story! Usually it takes me a week- two weeks to create stories I am actually satisfied with ( I know I’m super slow) but with some miracle, I finished this one today. So I decided I would share it with on my profile. This was to help me kind of get back into the Damian grove because I’ve been lacking lately, and you can also consider it a Halloween special as I won’t be writing anything specific for the event. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sensation of cold prickles through his skin when he sails back to the shore of consciousness. It’s cold. Colder than Gotham could have ever bothered to be, which is ironic considering he spends most of his days curled up next to the fireplace with his pets, a cup of Earl Grey tea in hand while he tries to bask in the warmth. But now he shivers against cool tile, shuttering with goosebumps running along his skin. Damian runs his hands along the length of his arms, shakely exhaling a breath. He pushes himself up from the ground, rising up into a rigid and tense stance. He squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to stand straight and fight the biting cold that nips at his skin; his is a Wayne and a Robin. He must stay strong. Damian wobbles on his legs for a moment, head pounding from his sudden movement. He tries to recall the prior events that led him to waking up in this strange place, but his memories are foggy and hazed over, too blurry to really distinguish what had happened prior to waking up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room he currently stands in is with no doubt a kitchen. The cabinets are an ugly pastel yellow with wooden counter tops and grey knobs. The stove, sink, and fridge are obviously old and outdated, as they look nothing like the new modern appliances in newer homes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But even if he was not able to come to that unsurprising conclusion, Damian has studied history since the age of five. He knows this house has been standing here for quite some time and based on the furniture and decoration and the putrid smell, it’s been around since the 1920’s. Broken dishware is towered in the sink with sharp pieces of ceramic littering the floor and countertops. A vase of dead and wilted flowers sits atop a shelf next to a meager collection of mugs and a wooden clock. The beige paint on the walls are flakey and torn, revealing a stalk white primar beneath the coat. The floors are a midious black and stained white checkerboard pattern which reminds Damian of the kitchen back home where Alfred and him would play chess until the kettle on the stove would whistle and screech at the top of it’s lungs. Damian feels his gut drop from the thought. He decides to wander around the property and search for a suitable way to escape this house. There has to be some way of entry, which means that if Damian can find it, he has high chances of figuring out just what happened. He trails down a long hallway with pictures hanging along the walls, all too similar to his own home in too many ways. It makes him sick to the stomach. Makes him want to claw at the tearing paint until he can dig his way out of here and hopefully find someone who can tell him where he is and how to get back to New Jersey. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are too many doors, too many ways to go. It makes him anxious, having to choose which way will be the right way. Because Damian isn’t used to having to get himself out of these types of situations. There’s always someone there to reassure him, to pat him on the back and follow. But now he’s alone, trapped in a maze of walls and doors and glass pane with no idea which direction will lead him to freedom. He takes a right, then a left, heads straight and then left again. But after that he starts losing count of which doors he’s opened and what hallways he’s traveled through. The frustration starts to manifest, starts to build into a ball of anger he does his best to control because anger never solves anything. That’s what Grayson tells him at least. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keep your head straight Damian. You must be near the finish line by now. It’s been at least an hour. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Many halls, doors, and thrown items later, Damian is on the verge to insanity. He’s tried practically everything he could possibly think of. He’s tried prying windows open to no avail, he’s tried shattering the glass and climbing down, only to realize that he has no grapple gun or rope to save him from fatal injury and possible death if he were to slip and fall. He’s tried that and many other ideas to no advantage, which means he is still trapped in this old, abandoned house. With a growl, Damian turns another knob, swinging it open and walking forward only to plummet down, down, down. He lets out a surprised yelp as gravity pulls him down towards certain death. Stupid. He was stupid. Damian had become so worked up and angry that he had let his guard down and now he was going to fall down into this deep, dark hole and -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A wire fastens around his wrist, jerking him up for a moment. He gasps from the sudden pain, left hand shooting up to loosen the pressure. “ You good brat?” A familiar voice yells down at him, echoing off the walls. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Todd</span>
  </em>
  <span> his mind supplies for him. But what is his brother doing here? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>peachy.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He grits out. He flinches when his left hand slides down the rough material, leaving his hand red and irritated. “ Pull me up you idiot!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ Hmm, only if you say the </span>
  <em>
    <span>magic word</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He can see Todd’s face from here, prideful and taunting, leaning against the door frame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ Todd I swear I will not hesitate to obliterate you once I -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ Okay, okay, you get a freebie this once since good ol’ Dickie would kill me if I just left you hanging.” Todd hauls him up using the rope and helps him back onto the stable ground once he makes it. Despite his usual distaste towards the man and his questionable humor, Damian is actually quite thankful his brother is here. Not that he’d ever admit it of course, he has a reputation to keep up after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, his arm is not badly injured, just a bit sore and his hand is fine as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ Thank you for saving me.” Damian mumbles as they travel down a hall, ears red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ What was that pipsqueak? Couldn’t hear ya’ the first time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ Don’t push your luck Todd.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Do they ever get out? Who knows? You get to decide I guess. This has a super weak ending but I was really just looking to shape up my interpretation of Damian and try to be a bit more descriptive than I usually am. Hope you enjoyed!</p><p>Comments and constructive criticism are highly encouraged!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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